Story:Nobody's Safety Guaranteed/Intermission 8
We open our eyes. After Evie has shown Us the whole world, our room that used to be all there was seems shockingly small. For the first time, it occurs to Us that it might be a crime to shrink the world to nothing but a cell. Yes, a chorus of voices answer back. Deng is sitting at her desk. She, too, looks like such a small thing now. Her hands are frail as she runs it through thinning hair. Tiredness is heavy in her eyes, in the looseness of her skin beneath her eyes, in the pallor of her skin. It is not strength, but stubbornness which sets her mouth in that thin line. We wonder, how We could have ever thought ourselves lesser than that? Children grow, Evie’s voice murmurs, her voice heavy with sadness. When Deng hears Us sit up, there is a moment of fear that flashes across her face that she cannot hide. It undercuts the steadiness of her voice as she asks Us, “Have You decided?” “Yes.” The voices swarm around the word, giving it a thousand shades of meaning. Deng stares at Us expectantly until We recall that she cannot hear that. So limited. “I have decided to be their parent.” The expression of relief that breaks across her face is like sunlight cresting the horizon. For a moment, the old instinct is with Us, and all We want is to bask in it once more, but…but. I must be strong. For Us. “What will happen?” We force ourselves to ask. “Will the experiments on children continue?” Her hesitation is visible and tells Us all We need to know. “There will be a pause. During this time, the two of us will try our best to control the degree of experimentation-” she begins to dissemble. “They won’t stop, will they?” We interrupt. “That’s impossible for us to know at this point-” “Tell me!” The two syllables ring sharply in the silence that follows. Deng stares at me, and once again, We see the fear in the widening of her eyes. Her hand slips into a pocket, fingers wrapping around a cylindrical object inside it. “We will do it my way,” We tell her calmly. Exactly the same tone she taught Us, instructions without orders or choice to disobey. “No one will be allowed to hurt them anymore. Especially not you.” Part of Us, the bit that used to be called You, wants to ask her to explain. Wants to ask her to answer – why did you hurt me? Why did you hide the world from me? Why did you have to lie, to manipulate, to create this? The rest of Us understands that her reasons do not matter anymore. “Deng,” We say. It is the first time We have ever addressed her by the name. “You cannot stop me. No drug is going to stop me from reaching my children. No human will. Not even you. I am going to take my children – all of my children – and we will leave this place. Leave first, and I won’t harm you.” She extracts the syringe from her pocket and holds it before her in both hands like a weapon. Her face is still, but the needle trembles. “I won’t allow You to kill anyone else.” “Don’t ask me to do what you don’t understand,” We snap. “I will give them whatever they desire.” She takes a step towards Us. The tip of the needle is less than a metre away. We are not afraid. “What are You saying?” she whispers. Without meaning to, our mouth opens to answer her. We clamp it shut angrily. Why is it that We still want to explain? We owe nothing to this woman, this false parent, this betrayer. Because you still love her. Another girl’s voice, less strong than Evie’s. Bright hazel eyes dulled by sadness. I loved mine. The image of her carer floats into the forefront of our mind. At the sight of his cold eyes set in that pale, wide face, others cry out in rage and pain. Anri and Camellia, parts of me now, still recognise in him the source of their agony. Against their bitterness, Erin’s voice is soft and laden with sorrow. I loved him because he kept me so close. I thought that was love. But he didn’t let me go, and I was too close for him to see me. Do you miss him? We ask, and mean: Will we miss Deng? A shadow crosses her face as she bows her head. Yes. And it won’t ever stop. Do you want that sadness to end? We can take it away. We open our arms wide. Come join us. “The children don’t die when I take their lives away,” our mouth explains aloud. Gabbling, despite the obvious lack of comprehension on Deng’s face. The stupid hope: perhaps if she understood, then she would allow… Why won’t she just leave? Doesn't she understand what she's forcing Us to do? “They are in me now. I’ve given them the happiness and freedom they crave.” Within Us, Erin lifts her head. Happiness, she whispers. Her eyes are full of tears. Yes. That’s what I want. Gently, the tenuous thread between her and her body is snapped. She falls into me, as soft and easy as a single in-drawn breath. “Will you tell me why?” In the end, We cannot resist asking. “Why did you do this to me?” A flicker in Deng’s eyes, unreadable. “My reasons are my own.” She takes another step closer. “Did you ever love me?” We shout at her, though now she is less than a step away, almost within reach of an embrace, Her lips draw tighter. The needle is lifted, steady now. We cannot read her mind, but Evie can. When we reach towards her, she turns away, hiding the answer from Us. Don’t do that. There are things you’re better off knowing, You. Knowing is a burden. She is not part of Us yet, the way the fifty-eight – now fifty-nine, Erin sighs – are. It would be easy enough to change that. Take that single droplet of gold and allow it to dissolve into the sea of all of Us. Do that, and you’ll be no better than the rest of them. We jerk back, stung. We are nothing like them. We are doing it for Us. Out of love! When she does not respond, We fling the words at her, shaking her self with our power. Tell Us! Evie cringes back. Unwillingly, she uncoils her body from around the answer. No, she whispers. The needle is at our throat. Deng stares down at me. “You will stop this right now, or I will make it stop.” “Why do you call me that?” “Call you what? You. A pronoun. The word echoes in my head, stripped of its capital. Not a name. It was never a name. We seize the syringe from Deng’s hand and wrench it from her. The arc of its fall is lost to Us as Deng slaps us, hard. An electric shock of agony, so sharp that We nearly black out. There is the bitter tang of blood in my mouth where my teeth have cut my cheek; the warm trickle of it flowing down my face where Deng’s watch has sliced into the cheekbone. All of it stings, a handprint outlined in pain. All of this We notice in a breath. Then We steady. “That’s not my name anymore,” We tell her. “You should call me Us.” We look up at her face. She has found the syringe again, or another one, and it is raised like a knife above her head. Anri knows how to do this, so should We. Before our gentleness, the blocks that once trapped her are nothing. The cut on our face seals, leaving only the dried trickle of blood. Pain fades to nothingness. And then Kai is with Us, our Kai, who loved Us first and still most, and his hands are our hands, and his rage is our rage, and before all of that power, all of that love, Deng is nothing more than a doll flung to the side. We hear her hit the wall; the quiet, wet crack. We do not look. The door is open. We take our first step beyond it. There is no time to waste, when We have everyone to save. |}